


Him of home and tenderness

by orphan_account



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Daddy Kink, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Soft!Dom, Tender Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 04:19:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15525906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A prompt fic asking for a female Deputy to come back to the Wolf's Den stressed out, and Eli helping her unwind as best he can (with soft!dom undertones and a Daddy kink).





	Him of home and tenderness

The Wolf’s Den was the closest thing to home that Rook had these days. No offense to Dutch, but he was neither the hospitable type, nor a very welcoming man to be around.

_Threatening to turn me over to the cult’ll do that._

By contrast, the Wolf’s Den—and Eli especially—made _sure_ to make Rook feel comfortable, appreciated… even _wanted_. Wanted being the key word, not needed, despite his earlier plea to her. And sure, maybe it was hard to get used to Eli’s radio calls three times a day—morning, noon, night, as prompt as the ticking of a clock—but Rook knew it came from a kinder place than how most of Hope County treated her.

As she descended the stairs down to the bunker, Rook thought once again of the first time she had ever woken up here. The memory hit her like a fist: Wheaty’s bright eyes, and concerned, youthful face; Tammy’s sharp voice, hard glare, and fully justified suspicion; and Eli’s… well, his everything. His presence dominated that memory, driving out all else—the fear that had overwhelmed her when she stirred on the couch, the awful taste of blood in her mouth, the pounding in her head. Eli Palmer left one hell of an impression for a man who was nothing but sincere and kind. It was usually the bad and mean ones that burned a mark in her, carving a part of her clean out.

Rook steadied her hand on the concrete wall for a second before she continued walking forward. She could _see_ his dark eyes in her memory so clearly—his dark eyes with their heavy gaze, the aura of control, compassion, and tenderness that not only radiated off of him in waves but stuck to her heart like a bur.

 _“We need you,”_ he had said, a statement of vulnerability and simple fact. Rook had wanted to laugh after hearing that. Who _didn’t_ need her in this damn county? She couldn’t take a step without someone radioing her in distress, couldn’t introduce herself to a friendly face without them tacking on their Eden’s Gate grievances and pleas for help.

Eli had, at least, waited until she was comfortable, clean, and healed before he started to ask for any favors. He’d tended to her first—spoken to her softly, sweetly—cared for her and _about_ her, and that made all of the difference.

She had barely cleared through the doorway leading into the control room before Eli greeted her, almost as if he’d been waiting for her to walk in. “Welcome back, Dep.”

Rook raised her eyes with a smile. _Speak of the devil—or, well,_ think. “Up late again?”

Eli shrugged. “Force of habit. I’ve always been a bit of a night owl,” he said, reaching out to take her pack. “Plus I had some work to do.”

Rook rubbed her shoulder, grateful to have the pack’s weight lifted without her needing to ask for it. He was just sweet like that. “It wasn’t cuz of me, was it?”

“Well if you call worryin’ and waitin’ the same thing as work… Then yeah, maybe.”

Rook’s smile slid off her face. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to,” he said, and then he paused. He set her pack down on the bed tucked into the corner of the control room and took his time turning back to face her. “But did I want to? Sure.” Eli paused again, cleared his throat. “Like I said, Dep—we need you.”

She raised her eyebrows. “And losing sleep’s going to help with that?” she asked with a little laugh—but that was a bad choice. A lance of pain shot through her side, flaring out of her ribs, making her breath catch in her chest. Rook clapped her hand to her side and huffed.

“What’s wrong?” Eli’s eyes were alert, his expression cautious. He reached out to steady Rook with both his hands, his warm, strong grip sliding from her shoulders down to her biceps. “Rook, talk to me.”

“It’s not—”

“Don’t say it’s nothing,” he interrupted, kind but firm.

Rook shrugged. “Fine. It’s something, but it’s not a _bad_ something.”

“We’ll see.”

Eli guided Rook to the bed and set her down before he crouched in front of her, lining his eyes up with hers. Rook lowered her shoulders and tried to sit still, doing her best to be a good patient. It was hard work—not just because being this close to Eli always made her heart thump and her mind race away into late night thoughts, but because she was so _tired_. Exhaustion had crept into every muscle like a conquering worm, mingling with the throbbing ache that she had tried so hard to ignore ever since returning here, home. Both of these things—her exhaustion, her aches—formed a combination that frayed on her nerves, wearing her down.

Eli saw this. More than saw it, he _understood_ it, and it seemed he was damned determined to help her out of it.

He watched as a small shadow of this struggle played out over her face. “You feelin’ all right?” he asked, his voice low.

“I’m just worn out.” She gently flattened one hand on the side of her ribs, the place where the ache hurt the most. “Got a little banged up on my way back. Didn’t think it was more than a bruise, but I guess I’m wrong.”

“It’ll be okay, Rook,” he murmured, stroking her arms. “I’ve got you.”

“I know,” she whispered. She shut her eyes with a sigh.

A moment passed in silence. Then, gently, Eli cleared his throat again.

“This, ah… This might go a little easier if you lift up your shirt, Rook.”

She grinned. When she opened her eyes again, it was just in time to see a faint blush bloom across the parts of Eli’s face not covered by a beard. “I’ll do you one better,” she said, and before Eli could question just what this _better_ was, she crossed her arms, pulled her shirt over her head, and dropped it on the bed next to her.

To his credit, Eli kept his gaze fixed to her lower ribs and nowhere else. She saw his lips tighten, and felt her heart throb at the little worried crease that folded between his eyebrows.  He was so… _kind_. What the hell had she done to deserve this?

“You’ve got one hell of a bruise,” he said finally, tilting his head. “There’s a cut in there too, but it doesn’t look too deep. It’s an easy fix.” He took a quick look at her face after delivering his assessment. “How’d it happen?”

Rook sighed. “You’re gonna laugh at me,” she said, stalling.

He smiled. “And you’re gonna tell me,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Rook pressed her lips together, suppressing a little sigh. “I met a turkey who wanted revenge for two decades’ worth of Thanksgivings,” she said. “And some Christmas dinners, too. That sucker was out for blood.” She shook her head. "Honestly, it's embarrassing. I should be better than that—I  _know_ I'm better than that."

A little bark of laughter burst from Eli’s mouth. He shook his head and sat back on the heels of his boots, giving Rook a long, searching look that was equal parts amused and adoring. “So our brave little heroine met her match with a bird,” he teased. "Hey, it could happen to anyone."

Rook raised a finger, a cautionary gesture. “You take that secret and you lock it up real tight, Eli,” she said, poking him in the chest.

“Well, look at you,” he crooned, matching her playful tone. “Kitten’s got her claws out.”

When she started to stammer, Eli gave her a wink and then, slowly, his eyes never leaving her face, reached out for her pack. “You’ve still got a kit in here, don’t you?”

“I… yeah, it should be there,” she said, keenly aware that she was still shirtless, keenly aware that Eli’s gaze was fixed to her as if he had a hand on her, holding her still. This thought, as well as the intensity of his stare, made her squirm a little on the bed, shifting her thighs back and forth.

If she were sitting here with any other man but Eli—intense, focused, kind, damnably endearing Eli—Rook might feel just a tad uncomfortable in this situation. Hurk Jr., for all his amiability, would have made this already slightly awkward situation even more of a blush-fest brain breaker. Nick Rye was very married, and a newly made father to boot, and Sharky—well, Rook had some trouble making eye contact with him after his piss collection had gotten mixed up with her Molotov stash.

Eli set the first aid kit he’d pulled from Rook’s pack on her lap. He then reached up and pushed her shoulders back. “Sit up straight,” he said.

“Yessir.”

His eyes glinted to hear her say this, and slowly, with a deliberate precision, he curled his fingers around her left wrist and guided her hand so that she was gripping his shoulder. After a moment, Rook understood what he was doing—he was keeping the wound clear so he could clean it.

“This may sting a bit,” he said, his voice low. “But you’re gonna be a big girl for me, yeah?”

Rook gave him a salute with her free hand.

Despite his warning, or perhaps because of it, Eli’s touch was soft, gentle. His hands were rough, decorated with callouses, but he exerted extra care to ensure that his grip was nothing but tender. He seemed to take special care with her, mindful not only of her injury—mild as it was—but the fact that he was touching her at all, that he was _allowed_ to touch her, even.

 _That’s a lot of speculation,_ she warned herself. Exhaustion’ll do that to a girl—that and an irritatingly long dry spell that was constantly put to the test each time she spent more than a few minutes alone with this man.

Eli’s cleaning and mending of the wound didn’t hurt one tiny bit. He murmured while he worked, quietly reassuring her, even asking what the bird looked like. “Might wanna put up a few wanted posters for the guy,” he teased.

Rook rolled her eyes. “We’ll put ‘em up next to all the ones the peggies made of me.”

He grunted out a laugh, but there was something strained to the sound, as if he didn’t like being reminded of the danger that lurked outside these walls, waiting for her.

Rook watched Eli work, consciously careful of every breath she took and how her chest moved with it—and how Eli kept his eyes entirely on his task at hand.

“See?” she said after he gently pressed a bandage to her cut. “Told ya it was nothing.”

“I beg to differ, hon.”

She tilted her head and gave his shoulder a little squeeze. “Why?”

Slowly, carefully, Eli slid his fingers down her ribs to her hip. Her skin thrilled where he touched her, leaving little trails of fire and desire. “I’m sure you’ve noticed how pressed we are for help out here,” he said, which was not the answer she expected. “We can’t be too careful with injuries, no matter how small they are—or how you get ‘em.”

“That's a lot of worry to have over a fight with a bird.”

Eli gave her hip a light tap with the palm of his hand. “Someone’s gotta look out of you,” he said simply. His hand lingered on her hip, and he stroked her idly, as if soothing the muscles beneath—or stoking the fires of her nerves into a small, roaring flame. “You gonna stick around for the night?”

Rook put one hand over his. “I was thinking about it,” she said. “I could keep watch in here if you want to catch up on some sleep.”

Eli laughed. “ _Now_ who’s worrying?” he asked, reaching out with his other hand to pull the first aid kit off his lap. “I only asked because I think you should spend the night here.”

“Doctor’s orders?”

His mouth twitched. “A friendly suggestion,” he said. “It’s been a while since you’ve had a bed at your back and a roof over your head. The Den’s got both, and room to spare, so why not take advantage of it?”

“It's all tempting—not to mention the good company,” she pointed out. And then, before she could doubt herself, she pulled Eli into a quick, firm hug.

Eli’s hands slid up her back, making her skin tingle once more with a flush of heat. He held her tight, giving back for as much as he got, even though this was the first real, intimate contact they’d had with each other since… well, since he’d gently laid her down to sleep and watched over her after rescuing her from the Chair. Eli didn’t flinch from her touch, despite knowing the war in her mind and the dark, creeping whispers of Jacob’s voice lurking under her every thought. He didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate—and she almost loved him for it.

“You feelin’ better?” he asked.

“Yeah, I… Yeah.” Rook bent her head and rested it along his neck and surprisingly soft beard. “It’s just been a long night. And day. And the past five days before it.” She tried to laugh. “Feels like I left a lot of me out there in the dirt—not to mention my dignity.”

Eli let out a little chuckle. It gave a low rumble in his chest, the kind that sent a vibration through Rook’s own body—a pleasant consequence of keeping him close. “It’ll be our secret, kitten,” he said quietly, rubbing her back. His fingers carefully navigated over the clasp of her bra, lightly tracing the little hook.

“You’re too good to me,” she laughed, gently pulling back far enough so she could see his face, but not far enough to break their hug.

Eli’s eyes, always dark in color, now had a new, churning heat gleaming in them. “Could always be better if you want,” he murmured, his voice low, warm.

A tense moment passed. And then another. Another. The heat in Eli’s gaze made a little electric thrill frisson out through Rook’s belly, and something clicked into place in her brain. Eli wanted something—something that was going unsaid, either for consideration’s sake or polite, almost gentlemanly, hesitation. And Rook was damned sure she knew exactly what he wanted, because she wanted it too.

Rook trailed her fingers around Eli’s shoulders, skimmed her touch up either sides of his neck, and cupped his face in her hands. “Hard to imagine you getting any better,” she said, speaking from the heart for the first time all evening.

“Is that an invitation or a challenge?” he asked.

“More like a compliment, but all three couldn't hurt.”

Eli curled one hand around Rook’s wrist again. He steadied the other on her knee. “And what do you want back for it?” he asked.

Oh, were they really doing this?

Rook leaned in until her lips were just grazing his. “Just some good company,” she purred.

Eli took in one long, low breath. “If we’re gonna do this,” he said, “we’re gonna do it right.” He paused. “Like in a room with a door that shuts, for one thing.”

“You got it, daddy.”

The word slipped out before Rook was aware that it lurked on her tongue, waiting to spring. She clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes as well, suppressing a wince. _Oh,_ god _, why did I say that?_

“Hmm,” he said, a low, thoughtful sound. “Daddy, huh?” His voice was a deep rumble that sent another thrill through Rook’s body, right down through her legs and in between. She felt his fingers slide through her hair, and he curled a few strands around her left ear. “Is that how you want me, hon?” he whispered, his lips grazing the little shell.

“I am… deeply receptive to the idea,” she said, her voice strained.

Eli’s laughter made her shiver. She gripped the mattress as tightly as she could, nails digging in, making scratches. “You got it, babygirl,” he breathed, and Rook couldn’t stop herself from letting out a weak little moan.

Quick as a flash, Eli scooped Rook up in his arms, carrying her like a bride or a sleepy child. He snatched up her pack as he stood, and carried her out of the control room, through Wheaty’s (thankfully empty) radio set up, and down to the hall in the back. There was a room on the right-hand side of the hallway; Rook had noticed it a few times before, as it was one of the only proper bedrooms in the den. It was a narrow, cramped space, but had a bed and, more importantly, a door that shut—which was undoubtedly exactly what Eli was looking for.

Rook held on tight as she thought of all that would happen once they were alone together in that room, with all the world and its worries kept out on the other side.

Eli nudged the door closed with his hip and crossed the room in a half stride. He skimmed Rook’s neck with his lips, settling her down gently on the bed. “Got you all to myself now, kitten,” he murmured.

“And how long have you wanted _that_?” she asked.

He paused. “A while,” was all he said, and he smiled to hear her laugh.

Rook grinned up at him as she leaned back on her elbows, watching as he shrugged out of his coat and shirt and dropped both to the dusty floor. He was lean, wiry—not exactly built, but toned from exertion and hard living—and with each movement he made she could see his muscles respond with a little ripple of movement, tensing beneath his olive-toned skin. Rook quickly fiddled with the button and zipper on her jeans, winking at him as she planted her heels on the bed and shimmed her pants and panties down her legs in a few graceless yanks.

He let out a breathless groan at the sight of her body, all of her almost completely exposed. He knelt at the side of the bed, pulled Rook’s legs over towards him, and spun her so that she was sitting to face him. He planted a few quick, wet kisses on her legs—one on her left knee, one on her right thigh—and then slowly, teasingly, he opened her legs wide enough for him to slot between them.

Rook closed her eyes and waited, wanting to feel him instead of _see_. Carefully, with his usual tenderness, Eli’s breath fanned out across her thighs, his beard tickling her skin, which was hyper-charged with sensitivity already. He lavished her thighs with slow, lingering kisses, humming along with every sigh she made. Soon those sighs turned to high-pitched gasps as he ran his fingers up her legs, cupped her thighs, and guided her legs over his shoulders.

“Got anything to say up there?” he laughed.

Rook curled her fingers in his hair and _pulled_. “ _You_ might have the patience of a saint, but I sure don’t.”

“Easy there, baby,” he murmured, his words low, deep, almost a growl. “No need to rush. I’m gonna take my time with you.”

And he was as good as his word, much to Rook’s torturous delight. His kisses moved up and down her thighs, over her hips, passed low on her belly _just_ above the small swatch of trimmed hair. Again and again he kissed her in this path, patient, tender, and again and again she chewed on her lip to keep from whining.

Eli noticed, of course. He skimmed his nails—which were kept short, but their touch was still still deliciously electric—up the sides of her thighs, moving around the outside of her legs. Each time she shivered and rocked her hips up, he let out a little throaty laugh.

“Got anything to say now, kitten?” he asked.

“ _Yes_ ,” she gasped. “Please— _please—”_

“Go on, baby. Tell daddy what you need.”

She pushed his head closer to her thighs, moaning pitifully when he pushed back against her strength. Eli murmured quietly, squeezing the backs of her thighs until he had a nice, firm grip on her soft flesh. One of his hands slid around her leg and reached up, his fingertips slowly, lovingly stroking the warmth growing in between. He groaned quietly, passing his fingers up and down her core, stroking her from her clit to her slick folds. “All this for me?”

“ _Yes_.”

Eli growled. “Thatta girl,” he said, and moved his fingers over her in small, short circles.

Rook held his hair tight, her other hand sliding up her ribs to cup her breast through her bra. When Eli added his mouth to the attention he was already lavishing on her—just the _tip_ of his tongue, teasing her in slow, precise flicks—she let out a whimper. Her fingers shook as she reached into her bra and slid her thumb across her nipple, trying to time it to the movements of Eli’s tongue and touch.

And then he stopped.

“Take that off,” he said. “Let me see you.”

Rook opened her eyes and sat up. She unwound her fingers from his hair and reached behind her, each movement fast, breathless. She removed the bra with a quickness and flicked it at Eli’s head, laughing in triumph as it caught on his forehead and hung down on his nose.

“Kinda defeats the purpose,” he laughed, shaking his head to free his face. He leaned forward, moving up her body as he slid his teeth gently— _gently_ —over the peak of her hip and gave her soft skin a wet kiss. After a moment he began to suck on her, switching between that and the kiss, each one lasting long enough for Rook to grow impatient again.

With a moan, Rook lifted up her hips and rocked them side to side, chasing his mouth. She let out a little yelp as he gave her hip a playful, harmless nip. “ _Please_ , daddy,” she begged, her voice heated, breathless.

In response to this plea, Eli gave her hip one last kiss before he lowered his mouth back to her clit, his tongue moving at a faster pace this time. And then slowly, almost as if he were testing her, he slid first one finger inside her, up past the knuckle, before he curled the tip and added another.

As he moved his fingers up and in, a wave of warmth flushed down Rook’s thighs, building into a shiver that tensed her muscles. Her hips rose off the bed, but Eli flattened his hands against her abdomen and pushed her back to the mattress.

“Hold still, baby,” he murmured, his lips and beard tickling her as he spoke. “Let daddy take care of you.”

Rook tried to do as he said—granted she didn’t try very much, but an effort was indeed made. She was happily preoccupied with her steadily building orgasm, wave after wave of pleasure and pressure rippling through her thighs. She was happily distracted by Eli’s tongue and fingers, and how every now and then he moved his mouth over to her thighs and gave them three small kisses, sweet and soft.

“Nice and quiet now,” he whispered each time she moaned. He moved his fingers faster and further in. “Don’t want anyone to spoil our fun, do we?”

“ _No_ ,” she sighed, cupping her breasts, pushing them up together. She would have said anything in that moment, agreed to anything he asked at all. She wasn’t helpless, wasn’t mindless—she was just _his_ , utterly in his power, totally, completely—and it was just like Eli to use that control to give _her_ what she wanted. Good men might be hard to find, but they were easy to love.

“I can feel those thighs trembling,” he chuckled. “Gettin’ close?”

“Yes, daddy.” Rook struggled to get the words out, her climax building higher, faster. She tilted her head back, mouth open, eyes fluttering shut as she dug her heels into his upper back and lifted herself up, almost grinding against his mouth.

“Easy, baby, easy,” he laughed, tilted his head back. Rook opened her eyes and looked down the length of her. She almost gasped at the sight—there was such warmth in his eyes, gleaming bright with fire and love, as if he were savoring every inch of her like a pearl of great price, his ticket right up to heaven.

“I could watch you like this all night,” he said, his voice warm and rough. “You’re perfect, baby. Just what I’ve wanted.” He kissed her clit and pulled it gently into his mouth. She whimpered again, helpless, needy, and he let out a low growl. “You ready to come for daddy?”

“ _Yes_ —yes _please_.” The words were breathless; her voice had no strength, was all air and reckless heat. Rook gasped once, twice—“ _Eli_ ,” she sighed, his name leaving her trembling lips like a hymn. She said it again and again, a plea and a demand.

And then, just as she thought she couldn't take any more, her body came undone with a sharp moan, every nerve in her singing a choir of his name. All other thoughts were wiped clean, her mind becoming blissfully, beautifully blank of all else but _him_.

“Eli,” she whispered again once she had some strength back in her voice.

He kissed her soft and sweet, coaxing her through the rest of her orgasm, treating her tenderly as she squirmed with the almost too overwhelming sensitivity. After a moment, he climbed onto the narrow bed with her, kissing his way up her chest. With a sigh, he pressed his lips over her heart and listened to the steady, determined beat of her pulse.

Rook smiled and wrapped her arms around his back, holding him close against her heart. He settled in with ease, sliding his hands up her back, holding her steady as she gently passed her fingers through his long, dark hair.

“I could get used to this, y’know,” she said with a little giggle. “I come back home all stressed out, and you carry me off somewhere private so you can set me back right. And I'd be happy to return the favor anytime you need it, too.”

Eli stayed silent for a while. His quiet lasted long enough for Rook to frown, puzzled. Had she said something wrong?

“You think of this place as your home?” he asked eventually, his voice strangely hushed, reverent.

“Of course I do,” she said, surprised. “You trust me—you took me in—you _care_ about me…” How could she explain it so he would understand? Rook trailed off, her throat tightening with a sudden swell of emotion. She cleared it with a gentle hem and tried again. “A whole lotta people in this county keep trying to take my life in their hands and play with me like I’m a fuckin’ toy. But you… you just want to care for me. Care _about_ me.”

Rook bent her head to press her lips to Eli’s hair. She breathed in deep, smelling his natural scent of wood smoke, pine, and crisp, fresh soap. She closed her eyes and counted the second until he spoke again.

“You can look after yourself, Rook,” he said at last, “but I’m happy to keep an eye on you, too.”

“See what I mean? You _care,_ Eli. And not just about me—although… yeah, that does help.” She smiled again. “You’ve got a big heart and you’re nice enough to hold me in it. Makes me less afraid to do the same for you.”

Eli lifted his head to peer into Rook’s eyes. His dark, watchful gaze searched her face for a moment before he lifted himself up, tilted his head, and gave her a warm, lingering kiss.

“You gonna spend the night here?” he asked. “With me?”

“Don’t wanna be anywhere else,” she said. “As long as you stay this nice, anyway.”

He hummed. “I could make a habit of it,” he crooned, rocking his hips forward so she could feel his hard length pressing through his jeans. “You gonna keep being this sweet for me?”

Rook hooked her legs around his hips and crossed her ankles against the small of his back. “For you, daddy, I’ll be nothin' less than an angel.”

With a smirk, Eli pulled his hands free from her back and cupped her face in his hands. When she began to undo his belt, he groaned against her lips, thanking her, praising her. It was a quiet, grateful growl, as tender as it was hungry.

“That’s my girl.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you wanna drop me a line sometime, pop on in over at my Tumblr @ sisterfriedes.


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